


By A Thread

by danceswithgary



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Angst, Don't Ask Don't Tell, Episode Related, Established Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-09-12
Updated: 2008-09-12
Packaged: 2017-10-04 01:23:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,370
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24421
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/danceswithgary/pseuds/danceswithgary
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John's not feeling comfortable about his decision to let Carter, Keller, and McKay leave Atlantis without him. There may be a few other issues to deal with as well.</p>
            </blockquote>





	By A Thread

[  
Click For Full Size](http://pics.livejournal.com/danceswithgary/pic/000dzrqt)  
_All human beings hang by a thread, an abyss may open under their feet at any moment,   
and yet they have to go and invent all sorts of difficulties for themselves and spoil their lives._  
Ivan Sergeevich Turgenev Bazarov, Fathers and Sons. (1862).

"Colonel Sheppard, we have an unscheduled offworld activation. It's Dr. McKay's IDC."

Breaking into a run down the hallway outside his office, John struggles to regulate his breathing as he radios back, "I'm almost there. What's happening?"

"Dr. McKay is requesting a jumper and a medical team. Colonel Carter's been injured, and he says they'll need to take along climbing gear to pull her up from an airshaft."

"Got it. Major Lorne and his team are on rotation. Have them meet me at the jumper bay, we'll pick up the medical team in front of the gate. Patch me through to McKay."

"I'm sorry, sir, the transmission's been cut and the gate's shut down. Dr. McKay didn't want any delay in the dial back."

"Damn it! All right, we're out of here in five. Get the gate dialed and ready."

Detouring into the ready room just outside the jumper bay doors, John tears open his locker and yanks out his tac vest. Slipping it on, he heads for the gun locker holding his P90, his sidearm already in place in his thigh holster. Lorne and his men arrive as he double-checks his weapons, and John shakes his head at Lorne's silent question, unable to supply any details beyond, "Bring the climbing gear and ropes." He sees something flash across his second-in-command's face, and he suddenly realizes he's overstepped his authority. "This is yours, Major. I'm just riding shotgun because that's one of my team out there."

"Of course, sir." Lorne's nod is short, but a quirk of his lips assures John that there's been no permanent damage to his second's toes. Despite his overriding concern for McKay, John is relieved. He recalls the all-too-frequent times his commands were pre-empted by a superior stepping in, and Lorne doesn't deserve to have the same happen to him.

John leaves the room at a trot, his mind running through the countless ways a simple diplomatic mission could go wrong. The inhabitants of M5V-801 are a peaceful people, despite their stubborn refusal to allow the Atlanteans to help them relocate from their increasingly unstable planet. After he complained, Colonel Carter had agreed to relieve John from the painfully slow negotiations and attend the next meeting herself, taking along Dr. Keller and a very annoyed Rodney.

At the time, John had felt a little guilty about his unrepentant grin when he'd heard Sam make it clear that she expected the scientist's presence on the mission. The guilt had quickly faded when Sam had taken his smart-ass remark that negotiating with alien settlements wasn't why he joined the Air Force and changed it to a pointed reminder that commanding officers in the Air Force were, however, expected to complete their personnel evaluations in a timely fashion.

The guilt is back in full force. He'd let McKay and the two women go through the gate without him, and it sounds as if the three of them had paid the price.

Jumper One responds instantly when he slides into the co-pilot's seat, the instruments flaring to life as if sensing his urgency. Pounding feet and a clap on John's shoulder signal Lorne's arrival, and he slips neatly into the pilot's seat without a word. When John signals that everyone is aboard, Lorne begins lowering the jumper into the gate room while the rear hatch is still closing.

The hatch doesn't remain closed for long. Fortunately, the medical team is well-trained, and they stow everything aboard in less than a minute, the gate splashing into blue as they take their seats in the rear compartment. Shield dropped, they're through and out into the clear skies of M5V-801, and John immediately searches the area for signs of the injured team. Lorne lands the jumper in the clearing after John points out Rodney's position by the DHD, and then he watches John fidget impatiently as he waits to exit from the crowded vehicle. The remainder of the team waits for instructions, aware that the clearing may not be their final destination.

When he's finally outside, John realizes that Rodney hasn't moved to meet the jumper, and his concern ratchets up another level. Rodney leans heavily against the stone, his eyes closed, his face pale under a layer of dirt and scratches. John slows as he approaches the other man, worried that he'll startle and possibly fall. A quick scan doesn't reveal any life-threatening wounds, so John's able to keep his voice calm as he asks, "McKay? You hurt?"

Straightening with a jerk, Rodney blinks as he looks around the clearing. "Mmph. Good. You're here." Brushing past John, he stumbles toward the jumper, his gait wobbly on the uneven ground. Fatigue is evident in the slump of the scientist's shoulders and his labored movements, but his determination is equally apparent.

John hurries to catch up, grasping the exhausted man's forearm to help steady him. The gritty skin under John's palm feels clammy, and he wonders where Rodney's left his jacket. A hitching gasp forces John to loosen his tightening grip, but he doesn't move away from Rodney's side. "Come on, McKay, talk to me."

"One of the mineshafts collapsed. Sam's hurt. Broken leg. She and Jennifer are both safe, but I couldn't...couldn't lift Sam out of the airshaft without making it worse." Rodney staggers as he steps into the rear of the jumper, and one of the medics immediately takes over from John, helping the scientist to the bench seat and attempting to examine him for injuries, starting with the blood-stained strips of cloth wound around each hand. "Go. Jennifer said there's a possibility of internal bleeding."

John keeps his voice calm as he prods for details. "Where are they, McKay? In the village?"

Weakly brushing away the medic's efforts, Rodney flinches when his hands come in contact with the other's. He clenches his teeth in obvious pain and grits out, "Three fields away along the path. Big hole. Hard to miss." Lurching to his feet, Rodney shoves his way into the forward compartment, and then drops into the seat John had vacated. "I'll show you. You can't land because there's a good chance you'd break through to another mine shaft. Hover."

"Then I guess I'm the bus driver today." Lorne scrambles out of the pilot's seat at John's gesture, and they lift off, heading in the direction that Rodney points out. Standing behind John and splitting his attention between the scientist and the route, Lorne asks warily, "Jesus, McKay. What happened to you?"

"Later, Lorne. Let's just get there." John has to content himself with a quick pat of Rodney's shoulder as he follows the trampled grass masquerading as a path. The tremor under his hand worries him, and he increases the jumper's speed. He knows that the sooner they arrive, the sooner he can take care of Rodney. Still, he can't hold back a soft reproach. "You should have let them look at you, McKay."

Rodney shrugs off John's hand and protests, "I'm not the one with a broken leg. Stop wasting time on me!"

Lorne interrupts the impending argument with a gasp of awe. "Man, he wasn't kidding, sir. That is one damn big hole."

John's eyes widen as the extent of the jagged gash in the earth below becomes apparent. It's very new and it could swallow more than one jumper with ease. "They're inside...that?"

Rodney shakes his head in frustration. "No, I told you that they're in the airshaft." He grimaces in pain as he raises one arm to point. "There. I left my jacket on a plank to mark the exit."

Surveying the field below, John frowns. "I don't think hovering is the way to go. We'll make it a drop off and I'll park it at the edge by those trees. When they're secure, I'll pick you up, and then we're out of here."

"I think the _bus driver_ has come up with a good plan, sir."

The gentle amusement in Lorne's voice reminds John of his earlier resolve, and he winces in apology. "Sorry. Bad habit, I'm afraid. I'll just sit here, turn the flashing red lights on, and make sure the traffic has stopped in both directions."

Less than a minute later, the jumper is hovering six inches up and a few feet away from the small hole marked with Rodney's jacket. The Marines and medical team rush to exit, Lorne's shouted instructions following them outside. "I want thirty feet of rope on two teams, Marines ready to belay. Let's treat this like a broken ice field. That means spread out, people, and test the ground before you step...and don't crowd each other. Go!"

Although he keeps the majority of his attention focused on maintaining a steady position and altitude, John is still able to catch a flicker of movement in the corner of his eye. He spares a glance to the side and warns, "Stand down, McKay. You're staying here with me." The sound of the rear hatch closing emphasizes John's order. A huff and a muffled thump as Rodney resumes his seat allows John to concentrate on regaining altitude and radioing Lorne for an update. "How's it look, Major?"

"Tight and steep, Colonel. I can see why McKay couldn't manage to get Colonel Carter up top by himself. We should have her out and settled for transport in about fifteen, maybe twenty. I'll radio when we're ready."

"The bus will be waiting." Forcing a tight curve, John brings the jumper around so that he can take another look at the collapsed mine shaft. As he hovers to the side, he watches for Rodney's reaction, reluctant to move any closer if he objects. Unable to resist the lure of the unexplored, he asks gently, "Can I?"

A single shudder is Rodney's first answer, quickly followed by, "Go ahead. It's not like I'm still hanging over it waiting to fall to the bottom at any moment." He shakes his head and sighs heavily, "I actually can't decide which part of the whole ordeal was the worst: the claustrophobia, the acrophobia, or looking and sounding like a complete and utter moron in front of two beautiful, intelligent women."

John decides not to question the circumstances of the last option. He's too busy staring down inside what really does look like a bottomless pit. Estimating their position relative to the rescue teams, he indicates a small hole to the side. "That where you three ended up when you broke through?"

Leaning forward, Rodney peers out, and then points to a metal box on stilts located on the opposite side, about a few hundreds yards away. "We fell into one of those first, then a couple of tremors later, the stilts folded up and the whole thing dropped. Made it across just in time. I mean it. Another second...." Rodney sits back, his face paler than before.

"Damn." Stomach roiling at the thought of Rodney plummeting to his death, John decides he's seen enough. "Let's go park this thing for a few minutes, okay?" Suiting actions to words, he quickly settles the jumper at the edge of the field, keeping the teams in sight. "There. Safe and sound."

"Safe." Rodney's agreement is a hollow echo as he nods slowly and then drops his chin to his chest in exhaustion.

Sliding out of his seat, John squats down next to Rodney's so he can look up into his lowered face. Reaching out carefully, he tugs gently on Rodney's arm. "We've got a few minutes. Let me take a look at those hands of yours, okay?" He'd watched silently as Rodney rejected the medic's attentions earlier, but he's not going to let the stubborn man suffer any longer than he has to, even if John has to take care of Rodney himself. John knows from experience that if Rodney isn't complaining about a visible wound, there's a good chance his injuries are more serious than a strain or a splinter.

Rodney twists to keep his hands out of reach, groaning as sore muscles protest the sudden movement. "No. I'll wait. I don't want to get poked and prodded more than once, and you know I'd just have to go through the same nonsense when we get back."

"All right then. Listen. You need to drink something...and when was the last time you ate?" John unclips his canteen and tries to hand to him. A half-hearted glare rebukes him. Rodney's hands obviously aren't up to the challenge, so John balances himself with a hand he settles just above Rodney's knee and holds the sloshing container at the level of Rodney's crooked lips. "Come on, Rodney. I'll even hold it for you. You'll enjoy that, having your very own body slave?" When Rodney ignores the teasing reference to one of their more interesting missions, John's voice takes on an edge. "Either you drink, or I'll fly you back and toss you into the infirmary. Now."

"Fine." Rodney's surrender with a single grunted word only heightens John's worry and, as he carefully tilts the canteen, he considers forcing Rodney back through the gate either way. His thoughts are obviously easy to read, and Rodney's eyes spark blue fire as John lowers the canteen to cap it again. "Forget it, Sheppard. It may have only been for this one mission, but that's _my_ team out there. I'm not leaving without them."

Annoyed by having his own attitude thrown back at him, John silently clips the canteen onto his vest before pulling a protein bar out of one of his pockets. He tears at the wrapper and peels it back far enough to allow Rodney to take a bite. Sighing in defeat, Rodney does just that, and then begins chewing slowly as he allows his eyes to flutter shut. John has to lean close to hear his tired muttering. "God, nothing I tried worked. A grappling hook that I couldn't throw right, stacking crates that collapsed into splinters, a stupid bridge that broke under Sam...even the damn cannon ended up being useless."

Pausing, Rodney holds up his hands in front of his face to glare at them, his eyes still red and bleary as he blinks them back open. "What the hell good is a Ph.D, if the only thing that saves you is a rope, blind luck, and brute strength? Next time, I'll probably need to start a fire with a bow drill or...or something equally prehistoric."

Unable to look up into Rodney's fatigue-lined face any longer, John lowers his gaze to watch as he gently rubs small circles on Rodney's thigh. He offers another bite and a soft apology as Rodney winds down to a wordless murmur. "I'm really sorry I didn't go with you today, buddy. I should have been right there with you, helping."

After he finishes chewing, Rodney quietly disagrees with words flattened by the weight of exhaustion. "No. I...I'm glad you weren't, John. I'm fairly certain we would have all died today if we'd had your skinny ass down there with us. You and Sam and Jennifer would have been too busy mocking me because I'm not some buff action hero like you, and then you would have fallen thirty feet too, most likely right on top of me like they did."

Rodney's hands lower into his lap, palms up with fingers curving instinctively as protection. "The extra weight probably would have crumpled the stilts before we even found the rope in the locker, let alone put all those knots in it so that Jennifer could hold on when she fell out the door. If that didn't happen, you'd have done something stupidly heroic and suicidal and left me there..."

Drawing back his hand, John stands slowly, and then eases himself back into the pilot's seat. Every word Rodney mumbles contributes to the ball of acid regret eating away at his gut, the eerily calm recitation only highlighting just how close it had been. Hearing Lorne's cheerful voice is a welcome respite. "We're ready when you are, Colonel."

John's response is clipped short by a clenched jaw. "On our way."

 

~^~^~

 

John's more accustomed to debriefing while sitting in what was formerly Elizabeth's now Sam's office, not standing in the middle of the infirmary while Sam is having her leg scanned before they set the break. Sam wants to get it over with so she can take her pain medicine and forget about her latest near-death experience. John can certainly sympathize. He's felt the same more than once. It's just a little more difficult this time because Rodney's sitting on a gurney off to the side getting his hands cleaned and bandaged while Jennifer watches...not standing next to John where he belongs.

"...and we'll need to send the geology team back out to map the area and mark any spots where we could have a repeat of today's little adventure. I hate the thought of those kids running around out there unsupervised. Obviously, we also need to step up negotiations and get those people moved to a planet that isn't trying to shatter into pieces underneath them." Sam's breathing hitches whenever her leg is shifted, but she continues, "We got lucky today. I have to say that McKay really surprised me. I never would have believed he had it in him."

John understands that Sam doesn't share the same history, hasn't spent years working with, fighting side-by-side with Rodney, but the implication that Rodney's _less_ than what he truly is burns deep in John's gut. If he closed his eyes in that moment, he would see Rodney holding a rope in raw, bleeding hands, forcing himself to keep holding on until the two women were safe. He thinks about Rodney being afraid of heights and still climbing down that same rope suspended hundreds of feet from the bottom of a dark shaft, hands so tired and painful that it takes everything he has to hang on until he can swing across to safety. Rodney climbed out of the airshaft, walked back to the gate for help, refused to leave until the others were safe, and John wants to yell that every action taken was believable, _is_ believable, when it comes to Rodney. John keeps the smile on his face with an effort and limits himself to a simple, "Rodney's always come through for us. There's no one else like him."

Sam's smile is smugly indulgent. "Oh, I'm not saying anything against McKay. It was just...unexpected, especially after all his complaining and his phobias. He said it himself while he was hanging out there trying to pull it together long enough to make it across. He's not a real-life action star."

Deciding discretion is the best policy, John nods and excuses himself as the attending doctor begins to explain the extent of the damage and treatment choices to Sam. He heads towards Rodney's gurney, but the body language he picks up between him and Jennifer detours John in a different direction. He exits through the farther door and circles back to stand outside the door next to Rodney, out of sight, almost within reach. John convinces himself that it'll look like he's simply waiting to take care of an injured teammate, and that he'll leave if he overhears anything too embarrassing or confidential.

The flaw in that plan is the potentially embarrassing conversation that is already underway when John slouches against the wall.

"Hey, you can't just leave, McKay. You still owe me a beer from that bar trick I showed you."

"I would have figured it out if you'd given me any time!"

The doctor's voice had been light and teasing, but John hears the pained confusion behind Rodney's blustered protest and he tenses instinctively.

"I'm sure that even chimps would have figured it out eventually, but you didn't, so you owe me a beer."

"It wasn't an actual bet!"

John reflects that poking at a tired, vulnerable Rodney isn't an intelligent choice on the doctor's part, and he waits for the inevitable explosion with something approaching satisfaction.

"McKay, are you saying you don't want to have a drink with me?"

"A drink? With you?"

The surprised hesitation in Rodney's voice brings John out of his slouch.

"You know, I'd heard a few things, and there was that whole thing with Katie, but...you _really_ aren't very good at this, are you?"

John is standing in the doorway before Rodney answers. He watches Rodney duck his head in embarrassment before looking back up at Jennifer with blue eyes wide in dismay as he stutters, "Uh, n...no. N...no, I'm not."

"Hey, buddy. Ready to go get something to eat?" John's gratified to see a look of relief pass over Rodney's face at the offered reprieve, and he closes the deal with, "It's been a pretty long day for you. I'll bet you're going to crash any minute now."

"Food? Of course. I'm starved." Rodney staggers a little as he jumps down from the gurney, but John's right there to steady him, nudging the solicitous doctor out of the way. His reward is one of Rodney's crooked smiles, and that makes it easier for John to be gracious when Rodney turns back to Jennifer for a quick apology. "Uh, I...I'll have to...." Rodney's bandaged hands flutter between Jennifer and John, attempting to fill in the blanks...and failing. "Um...rain check?"

Jennifer tilts her head a bit and assesses the two men, then she nods with a smile, backing away to allow them to pass. "Of course. You get some rest, McKay." She looks down at her own hands, which have also been bandaged, although her injuries weren't as severe as Rodney's. "I'm pretty beat myself. I'll just check on Sam and call it a night."

"Good. That's...great. Then I'll just be...going." Rodney smiles gratefully and heads for the door, John trailing a few steps behind.

"Oh, and Colonel?" There is hint of steel behind the pleasant interjection that brings John around to face the doctor. "Can I depend on you to let me know if Dr. McKay runs into any problems with his hands? He should avoid getting the bandages wet, and I expect him back tomorrow to have them changed."

John understands what lies behind the blonde's knowing smile and he inclines his head in acknowledgement, even as his heart rate accelerates into the red zone. "Don't worry. I've got it covered, Doctor."

With a nod, she turns away, her final response coolly accepting. "Good. He deserves to have someone take care of him."

Relief washes over John, and he almost reaches out in thanks. Instead, he spins about and jogs down the corridor to join Rodney as he trudges toward the transporter. He grins as he listens to Rodney speculate about the evening's menu and complain about the difficulty of eating without full use of his hands, and the tight knot that's been tugging at the top of John's spine loosens a little bit.

 

~^~^~

 

 

Rodney's fading fast and he shuffles along next to John without his usual rambling asides. Head down, he doesn't seem to realize he's in John's room until the door closes behind them. John smiles at the puzzled look on his face and carefully nudges him toward the desk chair. After setting down the sandwiches and fruit he'd picked up at the mess, John pulls two beers from the cooler under the desk and opens them with a twist.

He sets one down in front of Rodney. "You should be able to have one. They didn't give you anything for the pain, right?"

A disgusted snort answers the question and Rodney reaches for the bottle, until he pulls back with a frustrated hiss. "This is ridiculous! How am I supposed to get anything done without my hands?"

Leaning against the desk, John picks up the bottle and holds it to Rodney's lips, waiting for him to stop complaining long enough to sip. After a few swallows, he sets the bottle down and holds out half of a roast beast sandwich without a word. Rodney rolls his eyes, but he doesn't refuse the food, and John feels the knot loosen even more as he takes a bite of his own.

Rodney's half of the sandwich and most of his beer is gone before John ventures quietly, "So. You and Dr. Keller?"

Rodney licks a slash of mustard from the corner of his mouth before frowning up at John. "What are you talking about?"

John tries a teasing grin, but it doesn't feel as if it came out right. "The raincheck?"

Shaking his head, Rodney pushes back from the desk so he can stand. His eyes dim to gray as he wearily protests, "I'm too damn tired for this, John." His voice grows more strident, and his complaints tumble into the space between them without pause. "I almost died today and everything hurts and I feel like I took a mud bath and got out without rinsing and I..."

John empties his hands before he grasps Rodney's shoulders to shake him gently. "Hey, hey, slow down. I'm sorry. You're right."

"You know it would simplify these situations if I could just tell them about you. I know that's impossible because of your stupid military code, but I'm worse than you are as far as seeing it coming is concerned, and I just end up babbling like an idiot." Leaning forward, Rodney props the top of his head in the center of John's chest and sighs. "Like I am right now."

John remembers when the babbling ended up too close to being a proposal, and he slides a hand down Rodney's back to rub gently. "I know...and I think that now Keller does, too." He feels Rodney stiffen, and his other hand joins the first in an attempt to calm the overstressed man. "It was my fault. I'm pretty sure she won't say anything."

"And if she does?"

Rodney's whisper makes John's chest tighten as he detects the note of fear that threads through the question. He thinks about a dark day spent on unsteady ground and, for the first time, he doesn't have to search for an answer. "We'll deal with it. Together."

"Together?"

"Yeah. We're a team...and no one's breaking us apart." John feels a shudder under his hand and trembling muscles that signal an end to Rodney's stamina. "Let's get you cleaned up, okay?"

Rodney straightens with a groan for aching back muscles. "I should go back to my room. I'm going to crash and I'm never going to be able to wake up early enough to get out of here before..."

John leans forward and softly quiets Rodney with his lips. Licking away the tang of mustard and beer, John smiles and reminds him, "It's up to you but, if you want to stay, we'll deal with it. If _we_ go back to your room, I'm not getting up at 0400 to avoid being seen."

"John..."

John's fingers are gentle against Rodney's mouth. "No. I'm not going to stand up in the middle of the mess hall and make an announcement, but I'm tired of constantly looking over my shoulder and waiting for the damn sword to fall. I could have lost you today, and I can't help thinking that I had two less hours with you this morning because you had to get out of bed and leave." He shakes his head with a wry grin. "And I think I've reached my limit for 'sharing' today, maybe even for a few weeks. Okay?"

Rodney waits for John's hand to drop before agreeing, "Okay, but there are clean clothes and a prescription mattress in my room."

"Sounds like a plan. Let me grab a few things and we can go."

 

~^~^~

 

"All right, that should keep them dry, but try to keep your hands out of the direct spray." John drops the plastic wrap and tape on the desk and points toward the bathroom. "Go on ahead; I'll be in as soon as I get undressed."

Already stripped and moving on autopilot, Rodney shuffles into the tiled room, thinks 'on' and 'hot' and 'hard' before he's even inside the shower, and he sighs in relief when the commands are obeyed. Entering behind him, John watches as Rodney braces his forearms against the wall and leans under the pounding spray, as he allows the heat of the water to mold aching muscles into more relaxed configurations. Raw red scrapes blend with the blue-purple of bruises, and John wishes for the skill to banish the color and pain from skin that should only carry the sheen of the moon and the brief tattoos of his fingertips.

Soap eases the stroking of gentle hands; dissolves sweat, dirt, and fear until they swirl down an Ancient drain to the sea. Rodney arches beneath John's attentions, small moans hinting at a deeper need. His body covers Rodney's, blood heat, the scrape of hair, palm smooth and fingers tight. All tastes wash away before lips and tongue can sample, only textures left behind, sight and sound blurred and muted under the rush of water.

John holds Rodney up when his body says enough and, when they are both dry, he's Rodney's guide to the waiting bed. Asleep within seconds, Rodney lies unmoving inside the circle of John's arms, while John stares up into the night and waits for the memory of deep, dark earth to fade beneath the soft brush of Rodney's breath.

 

~^~^~

 

"John, the alarm." Rodney grumbles and shifts irritably under John's arm, his eyes firmly closed against any light John might decide he needs in order to get dressed.

John's just as determined not to move and ignores the annoying beep that will shut off after a minute. "Too early. Said I wasn't going to get up."

Rodney stiffens and then groans as muscles protest the injudicious movement. "What if..."

"Rodney, we talked about this last night." With a sigh, John resigns himself to the fact that he's going to have to talk about his feelings...again...a great deal sooner than he'd wanted. He shifts back enough to let him rub Rodney's aching back, letting appreciative moans direct his hands where they're needed. "I'm not getting out of this bed unless you say you don't want me here and tell me to leave."

"I..." Rodney doesn't finish, and John props himself up and leans until he can see Rodney's face in the dim light from the window, the shimmering gleam of his eyes. The deep lines around his mouth and across his forehead make John worry whether he's pushed him too far, and then he feels a shift beneath his hands as Rodney begins again. "I've always thought of myself as a selfish man, never really cared about anyone but myself, about what's in it for me." Rodney talks over John's wordless protest. "I'm not sure that I can claim that anymore because I don't think I can keep you here with me if it means...if it means you lose..."

John can't let him finish. "Don't you understand? It's not what I might _lose_ that's important...not unless it's losing _you_."

There's silence for a minute or two, and John's beginning to fear he's done exactly that, but then Rodney nods his head, his stubbled cheek scraping against the pillow. "Of course I understand. I'm a genius. Now, let's go back to sleep." He pulls John's arm around his waist, forcing him to collapse back to the mattress with a grunt.

Curling around his stubborn lover, finally feeling the tight muscles relaxing back against his chest, John smiles and nuzzles forward under Rodney's ear to whisper, "Hey, genius. Are you going to show me how you built that cannon when we wake up?"

John translates the mumbled 'freak' as a 'yes.'

 

fin

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [By a Thread [Podfic]](https://archiveofourown.org/works/7050508) by [librarychick_94](https://archiveofourown.org/users/librarychick_94/pseuds/librarychick_94)




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